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A Grand Master Christmas – Free Short Story

*Spoiler Alert**

If you haven’t ready up though book six, “Elegant Seduction” you may be a bit confused by some of the characters in this scene.

Otherwise, enjoy this little glimpse into the world of the Trinity Masters, through the eyes of two of Lila and Mari’s favorite characters, Juliette and Sebastian.

This scene is unedited and raw—a just for fun thing that we hope you’ll enjoy.

 

***

“I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying. You have a food baby.”

Sebastian opened one eye and glared at Juliette, who had flopped down next to him on the couch and was poking his–admittedly full–stomach.

“I don’t have a food baby.” Sebastian considered unbuttoning his pants. “You do. Or are you just getting plump now that you’re married and settled down?”

Sebastian grinned as Juliette’s eyes narrowed.

“Did you just call me fat?” she asked.

“No. That would be suicidal and I have too much to live for.” Sebastian smiled at Grant as the other man scooped up used wine glasses off the coffee table.

The were having a double date/Christmas party, Trinity Masters style, where a double date meant there were six for dinner, not four. It was also a last hurray for Juliette and Sebastian, who had both officially moved out of their rooms in the legacy house. The elegant brick house had been home–on those rare occasions they were in the country–since college. Now Juliette had turned their quarters into quasi-hotel rooms for the lost legacies she was collecting and had recruited the other legacies who still used the house as home base to help initiate these new members.

Though they hadn’t actually slept in their rooms for quiet a while now, this was the last holiday they’d spend in the house, the last time they’d be able to call sitting around this table “dinner at home.”

“Who knew Elle could cook?” Juliette sprawled out on the couch and groaned. “No wonder you’re getting fat.”

Sebastian snorted. “Nice try. I already used that joke.”

“I’m too full to be creative.”

Sebastian rubbed his eyes. “There’s something wrong with me Jules.”

“Seb?” A note of alarm for the wellbeing of her oldest friend colored her voice.

“I’m so full it’s painful, yet I want another piece of that pecan cheesecake.”

Juliette grabbed a pillow and walloped him with it. Sebastian used his foot to try and shove her off the couch.

“Devon, I need a gun!” Juliette bared her teeth at Sebastian, but it morphed into a laugh. It felt good to smile. To take an evening to pretend that the weight of the world wasn’t grinding her into the ground, and that if not for Franco and Devon she would have collapsed by now.

Sebastian pulled off his shoe and sock and tried to put his bare foot on her face, something he knew she hated.

“Ugh! Help!”

“Tap out, Jules!”

“Death before dishonor.” She got her feet under her, crouched on the couch and leapt. She hit Sebastian and then they rolled off onto the floor.

Grant stood over them, sleeves rolled up, dishtowel over his shoulder. “What are you two doing?”

“She started it.”

“He started it.”

Juliette made cow-eyes at Grant. “I think my elbow is broken. Protect me from him.”

Grant bent down, grabbed Sebastian by the shirt front, lifted him and planted a hard kiss on his mouth. “Try to behave, Sebastian.”

Grant headed back to the kitchen where everyone else was cleaning up from the meal. Sebastian and Juliette crawled back onto the couch. Grant must have explained to the others what was going on–tattled on them, to be precise–because Devon came out, hands on hips. “Did I hear you asking for a gun earlier?”

“A gun?” Elle was right behind Devon, apron tied over her sequined cocktail gown. Her eyes were wide with alarm.

Juliette sighed with exasperation. “I was just joking, Elle.”

Sebastian pinched her and hissed, “Be nice to my wife.”

Juliette bared her teeth, then turned it into a smile as she knelt on the couch, elbows resting on the back so she could face Devon and Elle. “Well maybe I was only partially joking. Bastien said I was getting fat.”

“Sebastian,” Elle scolded. “You should never comment on a lady’s weight.”

“What if she’s not a lady?” Sebastian asked, glaring at Juliette. “Thanks for getting me in trouble.”

“Devon, did you hear that? He said I’m not a lady. Aren’t you going to shoot him?”

Devon smiled, and Sebastian knew that his friend–his handler–would hate it if he realized how clearing his feelings showed on his face when he looked at Juliette or their third, Franco.

“No, I won’t shoot him. If I kill him it will look like an accident.”

Elle looked mildly worried.

“What I want to know–” Franco appeared from the kitchen. “–is why these two aren’t helping with cleanup?”

Juliette raised one hand in a regal manner. “I am the Grand Master. The Grand Master doesn’t do dishes.”

Sebastian bowed, while still sitting on the couch. “I am the loyal protector of the Grand Master and cannot leave her side.”

“Uh huh.”

“Right.”

“They’d just get in the way.”

Their spouses wandered back into the kitchen, leaving Sebastian and Juliette grinning at each other.

They settled down, each of them resting against one arm of the couch, their legs comfortably stacked. They watched the fire crackle and the lights on the professionally decorated Christmas tree twinkle. It would have been perfect if it had been snowing, but outside clouds were dumping miserable, wet sleet.

“Moments like these are getting harder and harder to find.” Juliette’s comment was so quiet Seb almost didn’t hear it.

“Moments like these?”

“Peaceful. Happy.”

“We’ll get through it Jules. We’re getting there. We’ll find them.”

“I know we will, but what will the body count be by the time we do?”

“I don’t know.” Sebastian sighed. “I don’t know.”

One by one the members of Juliette and Sebastian’s trinities joined them by the fire. Franco shoved their legs off the couch so he could sit in the middle. Elle perched on Grant’s knee as he sat in one leather wing chair. Devon took the other wing chair. Juliette reached out a hand, clasping his fingers.

They were silent, caught in that rare perfect moment where everyone could afford to be still and at peace.

Quote of the Day

“Decide … whether or not the goal is worth the risks involved. If it is, stop worrying.” – Amelia Earhart

Also–a very happy Valentine’s to everyone. If you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll pop over to take part in the Fifty Shades of Valentine’s loop giveaway. You can “hop” in here: https://www.facebook.com/MariCarrWriter/

Screwdriver

[image error]Welcome back to Books and Brew! Today is the re-release of the second Cocktales book, Screwdriver. Last week, you read Stephanie’s story in Party Naked. Today…it’s all about Jordan…and her guys!

Cocktales, Book Two

When Jordan Lance isn’t poring over spreadsheets for Books and Brew, she’s fantasizing about the store’s landlord. Too bad she’s squarely in Gabriel’s “just friends” column. Jordan’s prepared to pine forever—until she meets Casey. The handyman is hot, handsome, charming…and Gabriel’s best friend. Suddenly her wicked fantasies are porntastic times two.

Casey has suspected his friend’s interest in Jordan. If he can push them together, he might get Gabriel off the bimbo train he’s been riding. The plan? Jealousy. And it’s working. It’s not long before Gabriel’s deeper feelings for Jordan emerge. Problem is…so do Casey’s. What happens when two friends want the same woman? Red-hot ménage, baby.

Two gorgeous men exploring every inch of her body? Um, yes please! Jordan doesn’t know if threesomes are considered acceptable, but she’s sure of one thing—being this bad feels far too good.

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Excerpt:

Casey looked closer at the AC unit. “Damn. I was afraid of that.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I was hoping it was an issue with the belt, but the motor bearings are shot. I’m going to need to order a part.”

“So it’s not getting fixed today?”

“I’ll see if I can rig a work around for the time being.” He stood and stretched. “God bless it, Jordan. I apologize if this offends you, but it’s hot as hell in here.” Reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, he whipped the thin cotton over his head and fanned himself with it.

Her now-familiar blush returned and Casey felt compelled to prod, to see if his suspicions about Jordan’s underlying naughty side were true. “Just so you know, I absolutely will not be upset if you decide to follow suit and work shirtless for the rest of the afternoon.”

The twinkle in her eyes let him know she enjoyed his joke. “I’m fine with my shirt on.”

“You sure?” he teased, taking a step closer. “I don’t mind helping you peel it off.” He reached out but she darted away, her smile widening.

“Casey,” she said, swatting his hands away. She dodged behind the AC unit and he followed.

The two of them played a quick game of cat and mouse as Casey chased her around the storage closet.

He’d just captured her, Jordan squealing loudly, when the door to the closet opened.

“Jordan? Are you okay?” a deep voice asked from the hallway.

Gabriel peered around the door and Casey wondered what his best friend thought he was seeing. They certainly presented a risqué picture—Casey shirtless, his arms wrapped around Jordan from behind while she laughed.

“Hey, Gabe.” Casey released Jordan and pulled his shirt back on. “What are you doing here?”

Gabriel’s response was slow in coming as his gaze traveled from Casey to Jordan. “I was checking on your progress.” Gabriel’s eyes landed back on Casey’s face and they narrowed angrily. “Looks like you’re making some.”

Shit. Casey’s suspicions about Gabe’s feelings for Jordan were confirmed in an instant. His friend was hot for the accountant.

Problem was…so was Casey.

“We were taking a break,” he explained.

Gabriel looked at Jordan, his expression softening. “You’re blood-red, Jordan. You need to get out of this heat.”

Casey glanced at her face. Gabriel made the same mistake he had. Jordan wasn’t hot. She was blushing. Big time.

“I’m okay, Gabe. No worries,” she answered. “I can see why you two are friends. Casey’s cure for the heat wave is going topless too.”

Gabriel’s expression darkened even further as he snapped his gaze to Casey once more. “Topless?”

“Actually, I think we’re done for the day,” Casey said, anxious to change the subject before Gabriel pulverized him. “I need to order a part before I can fix the unit.”

Jordan frowned and he sensed she was surprised by his sudden retreat to safer territory. Gabriel had never referred to Jordan as anything more than a pal, but Casey could read between the lines—even if his oblivious friend couldn’t.

“Um, yeah. That’s right. We were just wrapping things up. It was nice of you to come by and check on us.” Jordan’s gaze drifted to Gabriel’s face and she smiled.

Crap. The pure longing on Jordan’s face told Casey all he needed to know in regards to her feelings for Gabriel. It told him more than he wanted to know.

Jordan’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. “It’s Steph. We made plans to do a late lunch. I should take this.”

She walked toward the door as she answered the phone. Gabriel stepped aside and let her escape. Casey suspected he wouldn’t be freed as easily.

“What the fuck were you doing?” Gabe’s question was murmured, but even in the quiet tone, Casey detected the anger. A small part of him was thrilled to hear any emotion at all from his friend.

“I told you. Taking a break.”

“With your clothes off?”

Casey shot him a dirty look. “I took off my shirt to cool down. I’ve been in this godforsaken sweatbox for nearly two hours. Besides, what the hell are you so pissed off about? I’m here because you asked me to fix the air conditioner.”

“Why was Jordan in here?”

And now they were getting to the heart of the matter. “I asked her to help me.”

“Since when do you need an assistant?”

Casey was hot and tired and annoyed. Not a good combination. Gabe was poking the bear. “I spotted a gorgeous woman and an empty closet. Come on, Gabe. You’re a smart guy with a degree in finance. Put two and two together. I’m not averse to mixing work and play.”

Gabriel shook his head. “You’re not playing with Jordan.”

His friend’s vehemence tweaked Casey’s temper. “Last time I checked, you weren’t my keeper. Or Jordan’s.”

Gabriel rubbed his neck wearily, and for the first time, Casey noticed the dark circles under his friend’s eyes.

When he spoke again, Gabriel’s voice was calmer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I saw you with Jordan and I…shit, I guess I lost it.”

“Why? I’m not an asshole to women. You know that.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I know. She reminds me of Annie in a lot of ways. Somewhere along the line I’ve become a bit protective of her.”

Annie was Gabriel’s only sibling, and no little sister was ever loved more. Casey wasn’t sure how to respond. Gabe’s initial reaction screamed of jealousy, not brotherly instinct. “I can see why. Jordan’s very sweet.”

Gabriel didn’t seem to appreciate his answer. “So sweet you felt compelled to strip off your shirt and corner her in a storage closet?”

Yep. Definitely jealous.

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Where Did They Go?

The publishing world is nothing if not a roller coaster. My first book was contracted in the summer of 2007, so I’m creeping up on ten years as a published author. And HOLY CRAP–you couldn’t believe how much this world has changed since then. My first sale was to Samhain Publishing. They contracted a spicy little novella titled Erotic Research. I signed a seven year contract, opened a bottle of champagne and grinned for weeks afterwards. Then I signed a second Samhain contract (Tequila Truth) and a third (Kiss Me Kate) with Ellora’s Cave.

Fast forward four years from there and BOOM! Amazon’s Kindle took off–somewhere in 2011-12. Sales were through the roof on e-books and I hit the New York Times bestseller list twice with two of the Compass Brothers books. It was a great time to be in e-books.

Wiggle forward another year and you’ll find me sitting in a hotel bar with Lexi Blake and Shayla Black at Lora Leigh’s RAW, getting the recipe for a Liver Transplant cocktail and listening to them talk about self-publishing. In 2007, self-publishing was called vanity publishing and no one would be caught dead doing it because it meant no publisher wanted to buy your book. That changed fairly quickly as talented authors discovered how easy and profitable it was to publish your own books directly with the vendor. And even with Lexi saying–you NEED to be self-publishing, I remained with Ellora’s Cave and Samhain because I’d contracted books (lots of them) and I had commitments to meet. Took me almost a whole year before I had time to dip my toe in the self-publishing realm.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about self-publishing initially. There was definitely a learning curve. However, after just a few books in, I was hooked. Don’t tell anyone but I’m a control freak. Like big time. Everything about being an indie appeals to me. Seriously. Everything. I set my own schedule. I write projects that appeal to me/speak to me. I design my own covers. I set my own prices. I’m freaking Pretty Woman. “I say who. I say when. I say WHO…” It’s a good life.

Except…I wasn’t just self-pub. My older works were still with the smaller pubs where I started. Contracts and all that jazz. Zoom on until last year when the bottom fell out on Ellora’s Cave. I didn’t receive royalties from them for a year and a half before they finally closed up shop. In the end, I wound up giving them money simply in hopes of saving my books and buying back my contracts, which I did. Believe me, no one was ever happier to be free from a publisher than I was when I finally got away from them. *insert all the nasty words here*. Those 29 EC books are all mine again, the last few returning to me in October 2016. They’ve since been re-covered and republished. The last of them (Cocktales) are all releasing this month.

Last night, Samhain announced they were closing at the end of this month. Which means–come March 1–19 more books are going to fall back into my lap. The difference between Samhain and EC is the way in which they closed their doors. Samhain hasn’t missed a single royalty payment and when February ends, the owner is giving us our rights back. Just like that. Even though the contracts say they are still hers. Class act. All the way. I cried when I read they were closing, though the announcement came as no surprise. And then sadness quickly gave way to two other feelings–joy and bone-crushing pressure. Because putting 19 books back out there–with new covers and blurbs–takes time. A lot of it. If you’ve looked at my coming soon pages lately, you’ll know that time isn’t something I’ve left myself much of. Between my writing schedule and the day job (yep–I’m still employed full-time with a school system), I’m already burning the candle at both ends.

However, I’m buckling down, doubling down and I’m going to make some shit happen! For the time being, I have taken the pages for Compass and Second Chances off my site until I have time to create new covers, reformat the books and upload them to the vendors. My initial plan is to get Second Chances back out come August. Jayne and I haven’t set a date for Compass yet, but we’re both committed to moving on this as quickly as our schedules will allow. And as a bonus–the two of us are chatting about writing the Compass Boys. So if there’s a silver lining to all of this–I certainly feel like that’s it. It’ll be wonderful to return to Compton Pass with her.

My other Samhain books will also return, sprinkled about here and there. For longtime fans, I don’t plan to make any changes to the actual stories, so there’s no need to repurchase them. For new readers, I’m hoping to entice you with the new looks and affordable prices.

As for the rest, I have NO idea where the publishing world will be in ten more years (or even next year, for that matter). All I can do is hope I’m still riding the roller coaster with all of you! Because all in all, it’s been a great ride! Have a great weekend!

Quote of the Day

“If someone shows you who they really are, believe them.” – Maya Angelou

Party Naked

[image error]Fans of Cheers! Do you wish there was a place you could return each week where everyone knows your name? Have you visited Books and Brew yet?

Today is the release of the first book in the Cocktales series, Party Naked. Come on in and pull up a stool at the bar, order yourself a fancy cocktail and enjoy the fun friendships and romantic atmosphere.

Then…each Tuesday in February, come back for another drink and another sexy story.

PARTY NAKED

Stephanie Harper is perfectly happy co-owning Books and Brew, where she slings drinks and entertains her friends with cutting wit and a cynical take on love. She’s convinced she has no time for anything deeper than sex; she has a business to run, after all. And her thrice-married mother has proven happy ever after doesn’t exist.

Jarod Nolan begs to differ. Chance has him running into Steph—and giving her a ticket—one morning, but it’s fate that finds him in her place of business that same evening. A sizzling one-night stand ensues, and although Stephanie escapes before he wakes the next morning, Jarod is already sure she’s worth the chase.

Steph’s more than willing to party naked with the hot cop, but she’s adamant they’re driven by lust, not love. Jarod is prepared to prove otherwise, even if it means giving up one of the things he and Stephanie do best…

What’s that old saying? Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder?

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Excerpt:

She was halfway to the bar when she spotted a familiar face walking through the front door. She stopped in her tracks. Detective Nolan sauntered in like he owned the place, and the temper she’d managed to subdue all afternoon flared hot once again.

He glanced around the bar quickly, looking over at the boisterous book group as he took a seat at the end of the bar. His gaze missed her completely.

Suddenly she felt as if the clouds on her lousy day had lifted and she’d been granted a bit of good fortune. She’d had hours to fume about the detective’s behavior and, as always happened, she’d thought of a million clever, cutting things she could have said to him after she’d driven away. She’d been pissed off about missing her opportunity.

A smile crossed her face. Time for round two.

She walked toward him.

As if sensing sudden danger, the detective turned, his gaze catching hers as she approached. She enjoyed the myriad emotions that covered his face in the few short steps it took her to reach him—surprise, annoyance, anger and, finally, was that regret? The last pulled her up short for a moment, then she drew near.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t De—”

The detective grabbed her shoulders, pulled her toward him and cut off her words with a kiss that left her stunned motionless for a full thirty seconds.

What the hell?

She put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away, but the man was relentless. He turned his head slightly, his tongue brushing her lower lip. She gasped and he took advantage, opening her mouth even more for his beautiful assault.

Stephanie might be angry, but she appreciated a good kiss as much as the next woman, and it seemed a shame to interrupt the man when he was on a roll. Then she recalled the ticket and his rudeness. She shoved at his chest again, but he dipped his tongue in farther, the brief scent and flavor of peppermint on his breath making her mouth water.

Anger. Arousal. Those two emotions seemed to be in direct opposition and she was torn. Should she break the contact—and his neck—or hang on and enjoy the ride? For all his personality defects, the cop could work magic with his mouth. Holy wow.

He stroked her tongue with his, touching it with quick, teasing brushes. His hands moved from her shoulders to her face, cupping her cheeks, and Stephanie felt herself go molten, her panties suddenly wet. She was a sucker for a sexy kisser and a good face hold. God, she loved it when a guy touched her cheeks so sweetly.

After what felt like a few hours later, the detective pulled away, though his face was so close to hers, she could feel his hot breath on her skin. With a bit of distance between them, Stephanie’s wits began to return.

“Are you mental?” she whispered, too breathless to speak louder.

“No.”

His answer was too quick, too pat, too unsatisfying.

“You better have a damn good reason for doing that, Offi—”

He covered her mouth with his again. Rather than repeating the initial, long, soul-searching kiss, this time it was harder, hungrier. The horny fool inside her returned the effort…with interest.

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Quote of the Day

“I have never felt that anything really mattered but the satisfaction of knowing that you stood for the things in which you believed, and had done the very best you could.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

Quote of the Day

“Despite the forecast, live like it’s spring.” – Lilly Pulitzer

Quote of the Day

“I have a simple philosophy: Fill what’s empty. Empty what’s full. And scratch where it itches.” – Alice Roosevelt Longworth